No one likes taxes. But anti-tax animosity was especially intense in ancient Israel during the first century of the Christian era. In the Gospels, tax collectors (also known as publicans) are frequently mentioned in the same breath as harlots and sinners.
If tax collectors had a lousy reputation 2000 years ago, they deserved it. Under the Romans, the governor of each province was responsible for collecting the tax on land. Other taxes—on individuals, on personal property, on imports and on exports—were subcontracted to private individuals who paid the Romans a fee in advance for the right to collect whatever Rome had levied on the conquered nations of its empire. These freelance tax collectors profited from these transactions by overcharging or extorting as much as they could get out of the taxpayers. The Romans didn’t care, as long as they got the full balance of what was due. The Jews, on the other hand, cared quite a lot. In their eyes, Jewish tax collectors were shameless crooks who committed the twofold crimes of collaborating with heathens and preying upon their own people. Little wonder that the Jews of Christ’s day regarded tax collectors with loathing.
St. Matthew, also called Levi in the Gospels of St. Mark and St. Luke, was a tax collector at Capernaum, a Roman garrison town. He was sitting at his table in the customs house, shaking down his neighbors, when Jesus Christ walked by. Our Lord had just healed a paralyzed man; now he was about to reconcile a sinner. “Follow me,” Christ said. Just two words! To the surprise of the Roman guards, the clerks and the taxpayers, Matthew got up, left the money where it lay on the table, turned his back on a life of government-sanctioned thievery, and joined the handful of men we know as the Twelve Apostles.
Both St. Matthew’s and St. Luke’s Gospels tells us that Matthew celebrated his conversion by throwing an elaborate feast for Christ, the apostles, and a host of other guests. When the Pharisees complained that Jesus had no business dining with a notorious tax collector, Christ answered, “Those who are well do not need a physician, but the sick do. . . I did not come to call the righteous, but sinners.”
This is the only scene in Scripture in which Matthew takes the spotlight.
From a very early date Christians attributed one of the Gospels to St. Matthew. Although it comes first in the New Testament, St. Mark’s is probably the oldest Gospel, which almost certainly served as a source for Matthew. Matthew wrote for a Jewish audience, so he wrote in Aramaic. In his Gospel, he quotes frequently from the Hebrew Scriptures to emphasize that Christ is the fulfillment of the prophecies. We owe to Matthew stories that do not occur in the other Gospels: St. Joseph’s plan to put away the Blessed Virgin Mary; the coming of the Magi to Bethlehem; King Herod’s slaughter of the Holy Innocents; the Holy Family’s flight into Egypt; the suicide of Judas; and the guards at Christ’s tomb. He also gave us a major portion of the Sermon on the Mount, the parable of the Sower, and the metaphor of the sheep and the goats at the Last Judgment (the sheep trust their shepherd and follow willingly, knowing they will be provided for; the goats also follow, but think they can take care of themselves, wandering off, eating whatever they can find.).
There is no reliable record of what Matthew did after the first Pentecost when the apostles scattered to preach the Gospel to the world. He may have gone to Ethiopia, or to the region near the Caspian Sea—those two destinations appear most often in the old sources. There is even a dubious claim that St. Matthew went to Ireland. The truth is St. Matthew’s later life is largely a mystery. Tradition says that he died a martyr, cut down with a sword as he said Mass. But we aren’t even sure about that.
We celebrate his obligatory Feast on September 21.
May God Bless You and Grant You His Peace!